


To-day we have naming of parts

by woolfverse



Series: Woolfverse [8]
Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Car Sex, Character of Color, Hand Job, M/M, POV Third Person, Past Tense, hms victory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-03
Updated: 2010-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woolfverse/pseuds/woolfverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Tharkay's visit to the <i>HMS Victory</i> is cut short unexpectedly thanks to some phallic imagery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To-day we have naming of parts

**Author's Note:**

> "This is the safety-catch, which is always released  
> With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me  
> See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy  
> If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms  
> Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see  
> Any of them using their finger."
> 
> _-from "Naming of Parts," Henry Reed_

"And this," Will said, as they descended another level in the _HMS Victory_, "is the lower gun deck."

Tharkay looked around with the same neutral expression he had taken in the rest of the ship and made a noncommittal noise at it. (The exception to this general attitude had come one deck above, when a snicker had escaped him at Will's noting of an example of a wooden rammer. Will had had to pause momentarily in his narration as he appreciated how colourful its name was in light of recent developments in their relationship.) He seemed...not entirely unenthused, but certainly not as engrossed as Will might have hoped; but at he was at least not showing outright annoyance at Will's decision to forgo the official tour in favour of conducting his own, Will decided to assume it was going well.

"This deck is home not only to more guns but also the mess hall and most of the crew's sleeping quarters." Will made small gestures as necessary as he spoke and steered them towards the impressive (he thought) row of guns, as black and hulking as the day they were brought on board. As they came to the first, Will paused directly behind it (though of course one would never do so were it actually in use, and he made a note to mention this to Tharkay) and rested a hand on the cool metal of the cannon. "This is a 32-pounder, which means--"

"The weight of its shot," Tharkay supplied promptly, his expression beginning to lose its dispassionate cast.

"You have been paying attention," Will said, taking Tharkay's hand with a smile. "There are--" and he paused to glance about for a rough count-- "approximately thirty on this deck, and their--"

"Will," Tharkay interrupted, with an odd edge to his voice, "I would thank you to stop doing that."

"Doing what?" Will first asked, then followed Tharkay's gaze down, to the hand still on the gun; his fingers had begun to brush the weapon back and forth in idleness as he spoke, sweeping over the metal with a light touch.

The obvious metaphor became clear, given where he was standing in relation to the gun; he gave a small start and felt his face beginning to colour. "I--I apologize, Tharkay. I--" and here, Will cleared his throat. "I did not consider--"

"It is no matter," Tharkay answered, and squeezed his hand firmly. He drew closer and said into Will's ear, "This has been very educational, but I think I have learned all I can about ships today, _Captain_."

"H--have you now," Will replied, his breath hitching in his throat.

"I would be happy to return with you someday," Tharkay continued, before drawing him away from the row of guns and toward the steps to the exit, "but I find my interests drawn elsewhere for the moment."

-

They stood in the car park for several moments in painful silence, staring at Will's vehicle as though they had never seen it before. (Will's thoughts were admittedly mostly consumed with wondering whether they could use the car as something to brace themselves with, or if there were too many families in the area to do more than stand about with their arms wrapped around each others' waists.)

Finally, Tharkay pointed out, "The windows are tinted. We could use the backseat--"

Will shook his head vehemently at the idea of waking up the next day with stiff muscles, for all the wrong reasons. "I am rather too long to fit in the backseat comfortably with you."

Tharkay glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow in an expression that clearly stated, _Do you have any idea what you just said?_

"Not like _that_," Will replied; the pinkish tinge had yet to entirely leave his cheeks, and he suspected it would not until they had either found somewhere to go or left things off so long that the moment was ruined. He coughed. "As you well know. I'm too tall."

"Will," Tharkay said, through gritted teeth--half against the cold wind blowing off the sea, Will imagined, and half out of frustration with the entire situation. "It is freezing out. If you have no solution, we will have to go in search of the nearest public loo just to keep warm."

"That would be within the _Victory_, I imagine," Will said, and the barest shadow of an idea came to him. He unlocked the car and motioned to Tharkay to get in. "And I am not going to debauch her, no matter how tempting you make the offer."

"I doubt it would be the first time someone did," but Tharkay climbed into the passenger's seat. "Where do you propose we go?"

"Nevertheless, the principle of the thing," Will said, starting the car. He set the heat on full blast, leaned over the armrest to where Tharkay sat, and caught his lips in a kiss.

It lasted longer than he had meant it to, though he did not find himself minding, and when he pulled back, the desire in Tharkay's eyes was only too evident. With upturned lips, Tharkay asked, "Did you change your mind about the car? I'd be more than happy to put my seat back."

"I think we'd best be going," Will answered, fighting back a smirk as he turned the keys in the ignition. And though he groaned with disappointment, Tharkay sat back in his seat and put on his seat belt.

"You're aware," he said to Will as they pulled out of the car park, "that we'll have to wait _three hours_ at this rate?"

"I don't imagine it will take that long," Will said, lightly as he could, and tried to calculate how long it would be before they were out of the city proper and he might not feel completely indecent. _Too long_ was the best he could come up with, and instead focused on remembering the way back home. "Surely something will come up."

Apparently Tharkay could not resist the possibility of a witty comeback, even in the middle of a mood. "I had _hoped_ something might do just that, but you preferred not to go back to the boat."

"Ship."

"You know what I mean." The car was quiet from there, until Will felt they were far enough into the countryside to justify such an indulgence and set a hand on Tharkay's thigh. "Will, you're not making this drive any shorter."

"I--" and Will determined that if he could form such a vulgar (if enticing) idea in the first place, he should certainly be able to discuss it. He cleared his throat. "I only need one hand to drive, Tharkay."

Whatever response Tharkay had expected, Will imagined it wasn't _that_ one. A few moments later, he asked, voice slightly strained, "Am I understanding you correctly?"

"You'll have to undo your jeans," Will said, pressing on before embarrassment could cut him short. "I don't think I can manage _that_ one-handed."

From Tharkay's throat came a noise of approval, one that banished any anxiety Will had felt about his possible reaction. (He was still vaguely worried about crashing the car and killing them both, but the desire to--was there even a _name_ for this particular maneuver?--was growing overwhelming. If Will was slightly more willing than Tharkay to hold off until they reached Dartmouth, it was only _slightly_ yet.) With surprising grace, he freed himself from the barriers of boxers and trousers, and without any subtlety at all, brought Will's hand closer to his groin.

Will was more than happy to run an experimental finger down the length of Tharkay, trying to imagine what would be possible from this angle. (Most everything as usual, he suspected, except that he would have to suffer rather than take himself in hand as well.) To his surprise, Tharkay's moan was cut short by a grunt. "Hell, Will, your hands are _freezing_."

"Hand," he corrected, as Tharkay took Will's hand in his own and breathed hot over it, warmer yet than the air blowing through the car's vents. "A-and Tharkay, I do need to--to drive--"

Tharkay very kindly stopped running his tongue over Will's fingertips and let go his hand entirely. "We _could_ pull over, you know."

"The less I drive, the longer it is before we have a proper bed in front of us. And I _should_ like to get home before nightfall." Will patted Tharkay's shoulder and let his hand drift down his arm once more toward his lap.

The sound Tharkay made when Will once more came in contact with his bare skin was enough to make him wish he _had_ decided to pull over; he could feel his own ardor beginning to stir. With his eyes on the road, he dragged his fingers along Tharkay's flesh and tried dearly to pay more attention to his driving than to the man next to him.

It was easier said than done, especially as Tharkay's hips began to rise with Will's strokes, and the conversation in the car diminished to commentary in a language Will was wholly unfamiliar with. Just the sound of Tharkay's voice was a great encouragement, though, especially when Will's own name was mixed in with whatever else Tharkay was growling. At some point, Will thought vaguely, while trying to figure out how he was going to change lanes with only one hand, he would like to learn enough of Tharkay's other languages to be able to share in whatever he was saying in such situations.

At that moment, however, he might do better to concentrate on growing a third arm, that he might pay equal attention to his car and boyfriend both. Tharkay looked at him quite sullenly as he took his hand away, despite Will's apologetic, "I'm sorry, my dear, but I need to shift."

"Quickly," Tharkay answered, sounding as though he was speaking through gritted teeth, "or I will have to finish myself."

"That wouldn't be gentlemanly of me at all," Will said, and put his foot to the accelerator; he suspected that waiting for the opportunity to return to Tharkay's needs was agonizing for them both. Leaving him half undone with desire and panting an armrest's width away had brought Will to a point of distracting arousal, to say nothing of the pained expression on Tharkay's face.

As soon as he could, Will returned to his previous enterprise, but found that he could not be so gentle. It was impossible when Tharkay's ragged encouragements urged him on as they did, a melange of syllables in the most appreciative of tones. He wanted only to hear Tharkay breathe out _Will_ as he was doing then, desperate and filled with yearning; that, and to keep from veering off the road.

It was not long until Tharkay's hips jerked towards Will's hand a final time; his words were unintelligible as he finished, but the kiss he gave Will's upper arm was not. For his own part, Will focused all the more on the motorway, studiously ignoring the throbbing between his legs.

"Have you got any tissues in here?" Tharkay asked some while later. "We've made a slight mess of your car." His voice was nearly a purr, so content was he, and Will wished they were home already, that he might curl up around him with equal satisfaction.

"In the glove box." With a small smile, Will added, "I cannot say I mind."

"Good, for I'm feeling unrepentant." Tharkay cleaned off Will's hand first, pressing a kiss to his fingers before letting him return to driving with both hands, then began to attend to himself. With a note of pride colouring his tone, he asked, "I have corrupted you quite thoroughly, haven't I?"

"I am quite ruined," Will agreed. He shifted once more, this time over to the hard shoulder, and moved the gearstick to park.

"Enough to have changed your mind about the backseat?" Tharkay asked, sounding almost teasing.

"Enough to demand to switch places," Will answered.

**Author's Note:**

> Set on a rather chilly day in March, 1989.


End file.
